


Grudge Match

by Minervas_Revenge



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 05:37:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16591841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minervas_Revenge/pseuds/Minervas_Revenge
Summary: Hermione gets between Draco and Harry.





	Grudge Match

Nostalgia, curiosity, and the tiniest sliver of fear flitted through Hermione as Draco Malfoy slid onto the bench opposite her. Harry had assured Hermione that her childhood nemesis was long-separated from his prejudice but there was always the chance he’d call her a foul name. Draco was a notorious bachelor and the subject of many a witch’s fantasy. They labeled him ‘misunderstood.’ When his grey-eyed gaze flicked across Hermione’s face, she was startled to experience attraction. She gave him a grudging smile to which he replied with narrowed eyes and a smirk.

 

“Granger,” he greeted, brows quirking as if waiting to see more of a reaction from her.

 

“Malfoy,” she replied cattily, grabbing her mug for a swill of butterbeer.

 

“So, you’re teaching rugrats, too?”

 

Hermione realized that she was still grinning and attempted to calm herself. It was just Draco bloody Malfoy.

 

“No teaching for me. I’ve replaced Ms. Pince,” she breathed, hiding her nerves by sipping more butterbeer.

 

“I could never handle _teaching_.”

 

Hermine fought the urge to giggle at Draco’s disgust. What was _wrong_ with her? It was as if she had devolved into a hormonal teen!

 

“Boyfriend..?” Draco asked casually, sipping his whiskey.

 

Heat licked up Hermione’s cheeks. “No,” she said huskily.

 

“I assumed you and Potter…”

 

Hermione’s gaze darted to Draco’s face in surprise as she shook her head.

 

“No?” he asked, watching her closer than she liked.

 

“No. It’s… Complicated. No, we’re just friends,” she verbally stumbled. Draco did not need to know the details of her relationship with Harry.

 

“That’s _interesting_ … You two bunk buddies?”

 

The warmth in Hermione’s face spread down her neck. _Where the hell was Harry?_

 

“Draco!” she snapped, exasperated.

 

“Ooh! _My first name!_ I’ve struck a nerve…” he teased with barely repressed glee.

 

Hermione crossed her arms across her chest and leaned back from the table. Draco had all-too-quickly discovered a way to get under her skin. Regardless, she saw that he was no longer a scared little boy, full of hate. Draco’s needling was harmless. She allowed herself to feel amusement and the tension coiled in her shoulders relaxed. There was no malice in the wizard at her table.

 

“Where the hell is Potter?” he asked.

 

“Funny. I was just wondering the same thing,” Hermione grinned.

 

And, like that, Hermione realized that she and Draco might become friends.

 

“What are you two grinning about?” Harry demanded, sliding onto the bench beside Hermione.

 

“Granger was just telling me that you two fuck like centaurs,” Draco drawled.

 

Hermione choked and spat butterbeer across the table. Unfortunately, she missed Draco. He and Harry burst into laughter while Hermione cleaned the mess with her wand.

 

“Crude, Malfoy. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m a vengeful witch…” Hermione growled.

 

Harry chuckled into his whiskey and Hermione gently elbowed him in the ribs.

 

“Noted,” Draco replied with a wink.

 

Hermione promised herself she’d take her body’s reaction to that wink to her grave. Her insides grew warm and gooey towards the blond wizard. It was mortifying that she was as susceptible to Draco Malfoy’s flirtation as any other witch.

 

Harry leaned back and settled his arm across the top of the bench, giving her shoulder a fond squeeze.

 

As the wizards dissected the upcoming seasons’ Quidditch teams, Hermione watched Draco through her lashes and wondered if Harry was feeling territorial; he’d never put his arm around her before.

 

No, they weren’t shagging. Harry wasn’t keen on physical intimacy and he preferred to watch.

 

On occasion, Hermione gave him something to watch.

 

To her way of thinking, they were simply close friends and when they were lonely, they found mutual release.

 

Hermione glanced up at a sudden lull in the conversation and found Draco absent.

 

“Did you say anything to him?” Harry asked under his breath, his tone tight with anxiety.

 

“Of course not,” Hermione replied softly. “He just wanted to make me turn funny colors.”

 

Harry’s grin relaxed and he shook his head.

 

“Has he gone?” Hermione asked.

 

“Just for shots.”

 

“Is that wise, _Professor_?” Hermione baited.

 

“It’s Christmas hols,” Harry quipped. “The castle is empty except for one or two students.”

 

“Granger!”

 

Hermione jumped when Draco barked her name and he set down a wooden tray brimming with shot glasses.

 

“I name you keeper of the wands. We’re getting good and pissed. No blood purification spells… Unless you care to join in the fun?”

 

Hermione did not hide her distaste for the idea as she shook her head.

 

“I’ll hold your wands and see you safely home,” she promised.

 

“I’ve got a large suite upstairs. You can – both of you – stay here if you like,” Draco offered, tossing back a shot. He set the glass down with exaggerated satisfaction and pulled out his wand.

 

“Potter, you’re already behind!” Draco prodded.

 

Hermione accepted Draco’s wand and held out her hand for Harry’s; she knew too well that he couldn’t resist a challenge.

 

An hour later, the wizards’ rivalry inspired a drunken race to the school Quidditch pitch. Hermione was in no shape to keep up and followed at a trot.

 

Without their wands, she speculated that there wasn’t much trouble they could cause. However, it was with disappointment that Hermione learned her assumption incorrect. She arrived to discover that both wizards had taken to the air on borrowed brooms.

 

“Shit,” Hermione breathed, tempted to ground them with a spell. Heart in her throat, she watched them swoop around the stadium for a bit, shouting insults at one another. Snow began falling in silence and her pulse slowed.

 

After a short time, Hermione’s neck got tired of craning up and she sighed. They were fine. She glanced about for a comfortable looking bit of snow. No sooner had Hermione taken two steps than something hit the back of her knees and she fell across a moving broom.

 

A shriek escaped Hermione as she was whisked into the air, cradled by Draco’s arms. She clutched at him with mittened hands and squeezed her eyes shut.

 

“Put me down. Put me down. Put me down!” she chanted, voice high.

 

“I’ve got you,” he said, tone offended.

 

“I don’t like brooms, Draco. Please, put me down.” She tried again, breathily.

 

Hermione’s grip around Draco’s arm tightened as she felt them dip. She peeked through squinted eyes to see that he’d directed the broom towards the ground and they were slowly descending.

 

“Oy! Land your broom! Hermione doesn’t like flying!” Harry yelled unnecessarily.

 

“Don’t get your pants in a bunch,” Draco yelled back.

 

“Feet, down,” Draco kindly directed Hermione.

 

Hermione opened her eyes and set her feet on solid ground. She wobbled and Draco steadied her with a solicitous arm around her back.

 

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking genuinely penitent.

 

“It’s alright,” Hermione said softly, giddy at the sensation of Draco’s arm around her.

 

“Oy! What’d you do that for?” Harry yelled, landing and stomping towards them.

 

“I’m fine, Harry,” Hermione sighed.

 

_Bloody drunken wizards…_

 

“Tosser!” Harry bellowed, dropping his broom as if to empty his hand for his wand.

 

“Wanker!” Draco returned, throwing his broom aside, as well.

 

Hermione thanked Merlin they’d both given her their wands. She couldn’t tell if they were serious about fighting or just bursting with testosterone-fueled bravado.

 

Harry pulled at the pocket that typically housed his wand and growled when he didn’t find it. His green eyes locked on Draco and he charged.

 

“Alright, that’s enough!” Hermione yowled, placing herself between Harry and Draco. Harry’s stomping slowed with uncertainty.

 

“Trying to draw your wand on me, Potter?” Draco challenged, voice full of outrage.

 

“Not you, too!” Hermione wailed. She spun to face him. She needed to cast a couple of blood-purification charms before they came to blows.

 

“This is nonsense!” she said with a hysterical giggle, rummaging in her wand pocket.

 

Warmth permeated the back of Hermione’s cloak. She surmised that Harry was behind her as she struggled to identify her wand through mittens. A shadow fell across Hermione’s face and she found herself looking up at Draco.

 

“Gormless git!” Harry roared, nudging Hermione so that she stumbled into Draco. Hermione gasped as Draco countered by stepping her backwards into Harry.

 

“You’re a knob head with no knob!” Draco snarled back.

 

Hermione would have laughed if she wasn’t trapped between the two. What the hell was happening?

 

When arms slipped under hers and lifted her, Hermione blinked and kicked air.

 

“No!” she yelped, staring at Draco in shock.

 

“Harry? What the hell are you doing?” she trilled, unsuccessfully scrabbling to grab any part of him that she could reach.

 

Was he using her as a shield? She blinked at Draco and went still. He was staring at her with unfiltered male appreciation. Her heart skipped and then went staccato.

 

“Draco,” she said, utterly befuddled.

 

He leaned towards her and pressed his lips against hers as if testing her reaction. His slitted grey eyes must have liked what he saw because he smirked and leaned in again. This time, he guided her lips to part and ate at her as if starved. Sweet heat zipped through Hermione’s limbs.

 

Hermione felt Harry’s grip loosen and he set her on the ground, once more. When he would have pulled away, she grabbed his hands and held them in a silent entreat not to leave her.

 

Draco broke their kiss and pressed his forehead to Hermione’s.

 

“I’d like to continue this but I don’t think I’m up for a threesome…”

 

Hermione’s grip on Harry’s hands tightened.

 

“He just likes to watch,” she heard herself whisper.

 

Draco’s brows lifted in momentary surprise and he glanced at Harry. Hermione could only imagine that Harry was red-faced and unable to return Draco’s stare.

 

“Didn’t know that, Potter,” Draco drawled with delight.

 

Hermione heard Harry utter a curse under his breath. Well, the drunk prat deserved a little humiliation after putting her in the middle of their pissing contest.

 

“My suite..?” Draco offered with a jerk of his head in the general direction of Hogsmeade.

 

“You’re quite inebriated,” Hermione said, mulling how bad an idea it was to follow Draco Malfoy to bed.

 

“Not as much as you think,” he said with a wink.

 

When he leaned in to kiss her again, she felt his arm slip around her while his other hand reached into her wand pocket. Side-along apparition between two wizards was practically orgasmic and Hermione fought to remain standing as they arrived.

 

When Draco stepped away to remove his cloak, Hermione felt Harry step away, as well. She spun on him.

 

“Don’t leave me,” she hissed.

 

Harry’s green eyes were bright with drink but he nodded in understanding.

 

“You’re not scared of me, are you, Granger?”

 

Hermione shot Draco a grin as she pulled off her mittens and started on her cloak buttons. Without a thought for her own inebriation level, Hermione’s mind touched on the fact that she’d be nothing more than a notch on Draco Malfoy’s bedpost. The upside was that she’d have masturbatory material for months after this night.

 

Watching Draco disrobe wasn’t something Hermione ever imagined witnessing but she knew it would be impossible to forget. He moved with the elegance of a man born to wealth, accustomed to being the center of attention and at ease. His long fingers made quick work of his shirt. He shot Hermione a heated glance that made her hands pause in their work.

 

“Come here and I’ll help you with that,” he said.

 

As if in a trance, Hermione closed the distance between them. Did this pale god of a man really desire her? Short, curvy, and brown?

 

“Hermione,” he breathed, hands deftly working her layers of buttons.

 

A thrill shot through her as his grey eyes met hers.

 

“Just trying it out,” he said, lips curled smugly.

 

Hermione almost hated how much she liked his hushed bedroom voice. No good would come of her attaching emotion to the wizard.

 

Goosebumps broke across Hermione’s shoulders as Draco plucked her last button and pushed cloak, robe, and shirt from her shoulders.

 

“You’re hiding under all those layers,” he muttered, leaning down to capture her mouth with his own. His hands smoothed across her torso as if memorizing her shape.

 

Senses swimming with the wizard, Hermione succumbed to desire. Gingerly, as if afraid he’d change his mind at any second, Hermione placed her palms on his bare chest. His skin was warm and smooth. With rapidly diminishing trepidation, she explored him with her hands. When her fingers crossed puckered scars, she caressed them with empathetic fingertips and Draco shuddered.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said, withdrawing her arms.

 

“No, it feels nice,” he assured her.

 

Hermione initiated a kiss and reached behind her to unhook her bra. She stealthily slid it down her arms and leaned into Draco with abandon.

 

The wizard pulled Hermione with him onto the bed and she gave a giggle, toeing off her shoes. Draco vanished the rest of their clothing.

 

Harry, forgotten, made himself comfortable in a chair in the corner.

 

An hour after arriving in Draco’s suite, Hermione lay sated in his arms. She sighed in contentment when the bed behind her dipped. Harry was joining them to sleep.

 

***

 

Hermione woke a few hours later in a tangle of limbs. Wizards snored on either side of her and she shook with silent laughter.

 

It hadn’t been a dream, then. She’d shagged Draco Malfoy while her dearest friend watched, then they all slept in the same bed. Biting her lip to remind herself to stay quiet, Hermione glanced at the blond wizard. He’d teased her and laughed with her and been quite kind. It was a shame he was a staunch bachelor. Hermione pressed a butterfly-light kiss to his shoulder and carefully climbed from the labyrinth of arms and legs.

 

She dressed with haste. She meant to let the wizards wake up without her and wonder. Precisely how drunk had they been? How much would they remember? With a smirk worthy of Draco, himself, Hermione snuck out of the suite and the Three Broomsticks.

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing: Dramione, Harmione  
> Warning: EWE, not Pottermore-compliant, voyeurism  
> Started: v2.0: Sep 23, 2018  
> A/N: Began this fic many moons ago but never wrote it. Is plot really that important? Not if it’s a PWP! XD


End file.
